Page 13 of Taloned Heart

“Don’t,” Abraxas said, his voice low. “No magic unless necessary.”

“Right.” Hand to hand it was, then. “Don’t kill any of them.”

“I won’t.”

She pointed at the guard she wanted Abraxas to focus on and then burst out of the shadows. Distraction was still the best option, so she ran for the farthest guard. Leaping over the fire, she curved her body toward the man who had already attempted to draw his sword.

A swift kick to the head stopped that, and she landed on the opposite side of him as he fell. Lore crouched, eyes up for the next person who was already running at her. Both of them, actually.

They’d learned well from Margaret, it seemed. If someone attacked, they shouldn’t waste any time trying to fight honorably. Mob the person and they were much more likely to make it out alive.

She balled her hands into fists, watching as the men slid their blades out of their sheaths. They’d come at her together, though right now they circled her. Perhaps they hadn’t yet recognized who she was. Or they would eventually. Right now, they were focused on staying alive. Good. They would need that focus to fight her.

Lore launched herself at the one on the left, using her momentum to spin him around while she wrapped her legs around his waist. He stumbled at her weight, but didn’t fall like she’d hoped he would. Instead, he dropped his sword and reached behind his head for her shirt. He planned to fling her over his head, she realized, and that wasn’t something she could let happen.

Hissing in his ear, she wrapped both her arms around his neck and squeezed hard. But then he turned his back to the other man, and she heard the sound of a blade whistling through the air.

Soon, she would feel that sword against her spine. Severing all the nerves there.

The pain never came.

Instead, she heard a snarl that rumbled through the forest and sent a shiver down her spine. That sound reached deep into the part of her brain that told her to run, flee, hide. There was a predator nearby and if she didn’t run, then it would devour her as well.

The elf in her grasp sagged. She fell with him onto the forest floor, holding tight to his neck for a few more moments just to make sure he really had passed out.

Then she rolled, crouching in the dirt as she looked up at the elf who had tried to kill her. His eyes bulged, his mouth moving on a cry that would never come out of his mouth. Abraxas had ripped his throat out with one hand and the other was still plunged into the elf’s chest, bloody, taloned fingers sticking out the back of the ruined mess of his ribs.

She shook her head in disappointment. “I said no killing, Abraxas.”

“He was going to kill you.” Her dragon released the man who fell onto the ground, either dead or soon to be dead. Abraxas grimaced at the gore on his fingers. “No one touches what’s mine.”

And she loved him for that, really she did, but the humans would not love him for his aggression. His actions would only add to their fear.

She shook her head and turned her attention to the mortals that cowered in their chains. No one wanted to look at them. Not a single one.

Then she realized they must fear all magical creatures. Lore no longer hid her ears. They were on full display, with her hair braided on either side of her skull. Abraxas was clearly not human, although most of them would struggle to guess what he was.

None of them wanted trouble. None of them wanted yet another captor who would make them walk miles to an unknown future.

Dropping to her knees next to the nearest guard, the one who was still alive but very much passed out, she rummaged through his pockets. “See if you can find the keys, Abraxas.”

“There are no keys.”

“There have to be keys. How else would they get them into the chains in the first place?” There was nothing in this man’s pockets other than a few vials of unnamed potions and a piece of paper that looked like a child’s drawing.

She was suddenly very glad she hadn’t killed this one.

“Keys,” she muttered, trying hard not to look at the terrified humans. “There has to be...”

“Lore,” Abraxas snapped. And then he pointed when she looked up at him. “There are no keys.”

She followed the direction of his finger to the humans nearest to her. One man was braver than the others, or perhaps more foolish. He held up his wrists for her to see that there were no locks on any of the chains around their wrists. They were forged onto the humans, melted so that they would never get them off. Not without a saw or something equally as sharp.

Her heart twisted in her chest and she thought she might throw up. Red ringed all of their wrists, burns that she hadn’t noticed before. Angry flesh that was likely to get infected if they didn’t take care of them.

She sat back on her haunches, staring at the mess in front of her. “Well. Damn.”

Abraxas patted her shoulder and approached the man. “If I may?”

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